


A Healer's Hands

by BlueFiction



Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Battle, Eventual Romance, F/M, Healers, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:01:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24487084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueFiction/pseuds/BlueFiction
Summary: Fay never knew her parents. She lived in Winchester all her life under the care of healers and naturally, became a healer herself. She lived a simple life helping others and was recognized in her community for her selflessness. She was satisfied with her life and the purpose she served but never realized that there was more to life than healing people. After crossing paths with a certain Irishman, she made a decision that would lead her to a life she never imagined and to a journey of self-discovery.
Relationships: Finan (The Last Kingdom)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 80





	1. A Long Night Ahead

The sun was setting, and the noise sound of an everlasting battle seemed to rage on in the near distance. Fay was no longer phased by the sounds of metal violently clashing and men yelling out both in fear as if their noise can ward off death and as they fall to the ground. Along with the other healers chosen to aid the wounded after the battle, she was hurriedly preparing wet cloths, stitching materials and anything and everything that could help the men that would be returning to them with their lives on the balance. She moved on to chopping up herbs, grinding them up in a bowl, and mixing them with water to make a paste with healing qualities. Her arm was beginning to feel numb from the grinding motion but she knew that she time was ticking and had no intention of stopping, even just to allow her a few seconds of rest. Darkness was beginning to fall over the camp and the screaming and clashing of metal gradually become less and less. Yells of fury were now groans of pain. The warriors’ battle was just about over, which meant that healers’ was about to begin. 

“Get ready everyone . . . we have a long night ahead of us . . .” Fay yelled, to no one in particular. She did a quick scan of the camp to ensure everyone was on top of their game and that there was enough clean water ready. When there weren’t enough hands or materials to treat every man properly, the next best thing was to wash them up a bit – sometimes, the little comfort of ridding one’s face of blood was the best that could be offered.

The camp was set up at the top of a hill so the wounded warriors would need to trek uphill to get to us. Although starting high may have given the advantage during the battle, it certainly did not afterward. As soon as Fay saw the first man walking away from the blood-soaked field stumble into the dim light of the camp, she shouted and waved her arm signalling for everyone to wrap up what they were doing and help the men up the hill. Fay was the youngest of all the healers at the age of 21, yet they followed her orders without hesitance. Perhaps it was because she was so young for someone with her reputation as a healer, or maybe it was because she had no fear of what they were about to encounter, and everyone around her could sense it. 

They spread out and dove into the wave of approaching warriors. Fay was running downhill and actively searching for the first person she could help. Her eyes landed on a very tall man with a very large gash in his thigh. He was just barely being supported by another man who had a wound somewhere on the left side of his chest telling by the way he groaned every time the taller man’s weight fell upon him with every step. She rushed towards them and put herself under the tall man’s other shoulder taking on some of his weight, giving the supporter some relief. No words were said, but a glance from him told her he was grateful. 

“Aye don’t worry Clapa” said the supporter, who Fay could now see as a broad-shouldered dark-haired man. “We’re gonna get ya all fixed up”. Any ear could identify the thick Irish accent. 

“Don’t you worry about me, it’s you I need to worry for. Uhtred will have me by the balls if I tell him his one and only Finan doesn’t get back safe and sound.”. A chuckle comes out from under the tall man’s very impressive mustache, but it quickly turns into a groan. 

By that point, the tall man whose name was known to be Clapa, supported by the Irishman named Finan and Fay on either side, arrived by a fire at the very edge of the camp. 

“Lay down here” Fay ordered. “I’ll go get what we need”. She gave the man named Finan a reassuring nod and ran off the get supplies. She returned moments later with a bucket of water, a knife, clean cloths, stitching materials and some herb paste. She got down on her knees next to Clapa, whose breathing was becoming more rugged and unsteady. She carefully removed some of his armour and cut through the fabric of his pants leg so she could then slowly peel the wet fabric away from the wound. The blood glowed bright red under the light of the fire but there was also a lot of mud and pieces of grass around and inside the opening. Fay would’ve liked to give the tall man, Clapa, a warning of the pain before she started going over the wound with a wet cloth, but there was no time considering he would only be the first of many men she would need to treat that night. Besides, the real pain would come from the stitching. Finan, who moved to Clapa’s head so that it could rest in his lap, tried making jokes and light conversation to distract the man from his leg while Fay focused on getting as much dirt out the wound as she could. It was time to move on and Finan caught on when he saw her pull out a needle and stitching thread. 

“This will hurt. Do you mind holding him down?” Fay asked Finan. He gave a curt nod, and moved from supporting Clapa’s head to beside his midsection opposite to her where he got ready to hold his legs and chest down if necessary. 

“The time has come big man, let’s see what ya got.” Finan said humorously. 

Very many stitches later, everyone was panting. Clapa, because that must have hurt like hell, Finan, because he all to hold the giant man down, and Fay, because that was the longest stitch-up job she had ever done. She dipped three fingers into the herb paste and spread it on top of the now-closed wound. 

“Thank you, lady” Clapa mumbled out before putting his head back and closing his eyes. Fay smiled. Finan stood up and backed away from the fire, appearing to attempt a stretch. However, whatever wound was hiding under his chest armour caused him enough pain to bring him down to a sitting position on the ground. He mumbled a stream of words in Gaelic and his eyes revealed his pain as they met Fay’s through the fire. 

“I’m not done with you, don’t go anywhere,” Fay said to Finan. “I just need to get more cloth.”

“Don’t worry lass, I couldn’t go anywhere even if I wanted to” he said with a chuckle turned into a grunt at the end. 

Fay returned to find him casually but skillfully twirling his knife in his hands, eyes boring into the fire. When he saw her approach, he set his knife down and started to remove his chest armour which turned out just to be a leather vest upon closer inspection. Fay gently pushed his arms away from his armour as any kind of upper body movement was clearly painful for him. She made his way around his body, undoing all the straps, and placed his armour on the ground. She then sat down in front of him and gently cut his wet shirt away from his body. His sculpted chest caught her off guard, but only for a split second before her mind went into “work mode”. 

When the wet cloth made contact with his wound, he jerked in pain. Without realizing, her other hand went to his chest as if to bring him comfort. His breath hitched at the touched. She ignored to warm of his chest against her palm, or at least tried to, and remained focused. Her hand only rested there for a few more seconds before she busied it with the task of reaching over the bring the water bucket closer. Once the wound was cleaned, Fay concluded that the cut was dangerously close to being fatal.

“You’re lucky,” she remarked. “Just a bit deeper and you would have been in some serious trouble. I’m surprised you don’t wear some metal over your chest, it would be much better protection than leather.”

“Right ya are lass, but I’d rather be able to move out of the way quick than be protected when hit. They call me ‘Finan the Agile’. Wouldn’t be so agile if I was clamberin’ around with a heavy metal plate on me now would I” he said with a light, playful tone. Fay looked up at him for a brief second and smiled in response. 

Like with Clapa, she stitched up the wound, quickly but carefully. It felt different this time because unlike Clapa, Finan had a full view of what was happening so there was slight pressure to do a good job. It didn’t help that she could feel Finan gaze on her hands and the delicate yet callous work they were doing. 

The final stitch was done, a fancy little knot to hold it in place was made, and some herb paste was spread on. 

“Thank you, Finan, for your patience, and for helping me with Clapa. I better be on my way now.”

Fay stood up brushed off her skirts, and to her surprise, he managed to get up from the ground to be standing in front of her. 

“You’re the one I should be thankin’ . . . “

“Fay” she said, assuming he was asking for her name. He grinned confirming she assumed correctly. 

She picked up what was left of her supplies and walked deeper into the camp, leaving Finan watching her back from the other side of the fire.


	2. By The Stream

It was the next morning – the sun had just risen, and Fay had not received a wink of sleep. Despite the victory, the aftermath of the battle was brutal and there were just too many lives at stake to take a break. By this time, most of the warriors, both wounded and not, were either just awakening or preparing whatever they could for the trek back to Winchester. Fay, feeling incredibly dirty and ready to pass out at any moment, decided she could take a few minutes to go down to the nearby stream. Cold water in her mouth seemed delicious and splashing some on her face could hopefully clean and wake her up a bit. Her step instantly became lighter as soon as her boots left the mud of the camp and were greeted with the damp moss covering the forest floor. She walked down the incline of the ground to where a clear stream of water glistened under the light coming through the canopy of leaves above. Fay knew she would be needed at the camp momentarily so she did not bother attempting to wash the blood off her arms and all over her front side, so she used this precious time to scoop some water into her mouth and rinse her face. 

There was some chatter downstream and Fay’s ears picked it up. Out of curiosity, she walked towards the noise, enough to see who was there, but not enough to disturb anyone. She recognized Uhtred as one of the men, or as the healers in Winchester called him, “the hero of Wessex”. With him were three other men. Among them, Fay recognized the man named Finan she treated the night before due to his distinct accent. He was almost unrecognizable without all the blood his face and surprisingly handsome with his dark, rugged features. 

They seemed to be having fun with each other, making jokes, and flicking water at each other with their swords. One of the men, with half his head braided and the other half shaved to display an intricate snake tattoo, started looking around as if sensing another’s presence. Fay didn’t want to be caught looking like she was watching them so occupied herself with washing her face again. She took the opportunity to also wash her hair which had become a large, tangled mess. When she pulled out the string securing the thick braid, the hair stayed in place due to the blood that had dried in it. She ran her fingers through the length of her hair successfully separating her dark brown locks with the help of water. She glanced up to see if the man with the tattoo was still looking around, but he seemed to have dismissed whatever caught his attention earlier. However, she could feel another’s eyes on her. When her eyes met Finan’s, they immediately reverted to the water. A feeling of shyness overwhelmed Fay and she wasn’t sure why. It was as if he were watching her fully bathe even though she was only washing her hair. 

“Fay?”

His voice sounded well-rested rather than hoarse, as it did the night before. She brought her eyes back up to meet his. He suddenly seemed at a loss of speech, as if her name escaped his mouth by accident. 

“I . . . uh . . . thank ya again . . . for last night.” 

The man with the snake tattoo started snickering and Uhtred gave him a whack at the back of his head while a relatively gentle-looking man gave him a disapproving look. The snickering stopped, but there was still a giddy look in the man’s eyes. Fay was puzzled by his obvious amusement, but she had a feeling it had to do helping Finan get comfortable, and not by treating his wound. A small blush spread over Fay’s fair cheeks at the thought and even more at Finan’s friend making that assumption. She looked down at the water and let her hair fall to act as a curtain to hide the redness in her face. 

“I’ve never received better . . . stitches” Finan said scratching the back of his hand and then turning back at the man with the tattoo to glare at him. Fay realized she had been down by the stream for quite some time and decided it was time to return to the camp. 

“I’m glad my work has done you well . . .” she said. Maybe if the three other men weren’t there, she would have said his name at the end. Given the assumption made, it would have felt awkward and strangely intimate to do so in front of them. Fay left it at that, wrung out her hair, and walked back up the hill after nodding farewell. 

-

Back at the camp, Fay had just finished packing up the rest of the supplies and putting them on a cart when the healers were given the signal that they could join the line of warriors marching back home. The horses pulling their carts started moving. All the horses were granted to those who fought in the battle, rightfully so, so it was up to Fay and the other healers to find a spot on the carts to sit unless they’d rather walk back. 

\- - - 

Sihtric was wildly intrigued by the Finan’s state around the girl. He couldn’t even describe it because he had never witnessed Finan so affected by a woman’s presence. Was it shyness? Awkwardness? Nervousness? Discomfort? He really couldn’t say. As one of Finan’s most loyal friends and battle companions, Sihtric felt as if it was his responsibility to get to the bottom of the situation. 

“So Finan, tell me . . . what did a pretty lady like that do last night to have you thanking her like that?” Sihtric made sure he turned up the suggestiveness in his tone. 

“Aye, will ya shut it? She was just a healer doing her job. For all ya know, she could’ve been with you too.”

“I have no need for a healer, I left that field without a scratch bigger than my fingernail . . . unless you mean she could have been with me for something else . . . ” he said, waggling his brows.

For some reason, his insinuation made Finan uncomfortable, but of course, he was not going to reveal that. Finan leaned over in between their horses and gave him a playful shove. Osferth, riding behind them, was clearly amused. 

“Will you two cut it out. You’re acting like children.” Uhtred scolded from ahead. Sihtric gave Finan a sour look, not liking how he got the last shove in. 

Uhtred apparently wasn’t done speaking, much to Finan’s dismay. “A pretty girl fixed up Finan last night and now he’s turned into a faithful lapdog, there’s nothing more to it so will you both drop it already?” 

Uhtred kept his chin up looking straight, but Finan could feel him smirking. Sihtric got a kick out of that – he was not as good as Uhtred at concealing his emotions and he burst out laughing. Finan grumbled to himself. She was just a woman; he didn’t know what all the fuss was about. 

\- 

After what felt like forever of patiently waiting, there was finally silence on Sihtric’s end. Now that Finan was no longer being bombarded with suggestive and equally curious questions from Sihtric, his mind started to wander without interruption. He replayed the events of last night’s battle reflecting on what he did well and what could be done better next time. As many times as Finan tried to replay the actual battle in his head, his mind subconsciously kept racing to the end of it, beginning with the voice of a petite woman shout out to the healers and waving her arms around as if commanding a gigantic army. Her voice was small, like herself, but at the same time, it was tall and strong. He distinctly remembered the woman, who turned out to be a healer herself, running towards Clapa and himself, and how she so selflessly put herself under the brutal weight of the man. He kept thinking about the focus and composure of the woman, Fay. Her small hands did wonders as they so skillfully wielded her needle as he wielded his sword on the battlefield. And then there was her touch. When her hand went to his chest, it felt firm yet gentle, tough but soft. 

Finan found himself mindlessly turning around looking back towards the rear of the line to where he knew the healers traveled. His eyes were actively darting back and forth until they landed on her. She was sitting on the back of a cart squeezed nestled between chests filled with the healers’ materials. Her side profile looked lovely and her hair was radiant under the sun, but he could tell she looked tired by the way her back slumped slightly. He turned back to face the front to avoid drawing attention from Sihtric or Uhtred. Thankfully, Uhtred was ahead with his back to them and Sihtric was distracted with some leaves he pulled off of a low hanging branch not too long ago. Finan eagerly took the opportunity to look back again. He was looking forward to seeing the way the sun made Fay’s fair complexion glow and her dark hair shine, but instead, he saw her getting off the moving cart and helping a man with a wounded arm get comfortable where she sat. 

Finan felt warm at her selfless act, but he also became unsettled because she was now walking on who knows how many hours of sleep. He watched her walk behind the cart and could see how a little bit of energy left her body with every step she took. It would only be a matter of time before her legs gave out and he decided he would not let that happen.


	3. Sleeping Angel

Before Uhtred, Sihtric, or Osferth could say anything, Finan steered his horse out of the line and off to the side of the path by the tree line. He fixed his eyes on the cart Fay was walking behind watched men walk by in his peripheral vision. When the cart passed by him, he maneuvered back into the line so that his horse was directly behind the cart, meaning that he was directly behind Fay. With the reins in hand, Finan swiftly hopped down from his horse and ended up in-step with Fay. She turned her head and was startled at his sudden appearance, for she knew that the fighting warriors walked at the front of the line. Her eyes, widened with surprise, were a beautiful hazel colour, but the sunlight shining directly on her face made them look green. She was silent, too startled to find words, and too tired to speak.

Fay felt the ache of walking become less noticeable. Finan’s presence energized her and it was a feeling she could not explain. After a few more steps, Finan broke the comfortable silence by saying, “I’m quite enjoying stretchin’ out ma legs, would ya like to ride?”, while gesturing up to the empty saddle on his horse. 

Fay’s eyes filled with confusion and her lips parted slightly. “I don’t understand,” she said, unsure what to make of the offer.

“You’re tired, most likely hungry, and stayed up all night doin’ and seein’ some pretty hard stuff . . . unlike me . . . minus the doin’ and seein’ some hard stuff. Ya could do with some rest I wager”. Finan’s face portrayed sympathy and Fay couldn’t deny to herself that she felt touched by Finan’s genuine concern for her wellbeing. Still, she was reluctant - she did not want to take away the horse of a well-deserving warrior. However, she also knew that she would not be getting her spot on the cart back and that a dangerously long walk remained. 

“Please?” Finan urged. She decided that she could take a small rest and accept Finan’s offer. Fay gave a small nod and allowed Finan to lift her onto the horse. 

\- 

When Fay nodded, Finan felt a burst of happiness in his chest. Her acceptance of his help felt like an accomplishment. He wasn’t sure towards what goal, but it felt like a step in the right direction all the same. When he lifted her up, he was sure he had never held anything so delicate before. She was like an angel from Heaven, except he was lifting her up into it rather than her coming down from it. Fay’s face relaxed as she sunk into the saddle, her legs no longer needing to support her weight. Her eyes fluttered closed into a small breeze and some strands blew over her fair features. A sigh escaped her mouth and Finan could’ve sworn he heard a soft “thank you” in the wind. Finan felt contempt and looked back towards the front to give Fay some space to truly relax. 

After walking while looking ahead for quite some time, Finan looked back. Fay’s eyes were lightly closed and her body swayed subtly with the horse’s movements indicating she was drifting into sleep. Finan became alarmed at the thought of her falling off the horse as there was nothing supporting her and her grip on the reins seemed too loose for comfort. Before she could sway enough to be startled awake, he gracefully jumped onto the horse’s back behind her. She felt his presence behind her and her eyes slowly opened, but before she could say anything, Finan whispered into her ear, “lean on me, rest”, and without reluctance, she did. He could feel her weight against his chest as she fell back asleep and he shifted himself under her so that she was on his right side, away from the wound. Her head lay on his right shoulder and her body curled towards the center of his body. The warmth of her breath in the dip above his collarbone created a tickling sensation and brought over a strong sense of security. It was different from the feeling of Uhtred and Sihtric and sometimes Osferth, he supposed, having his back, but just as strong. Finan’s arms reached out in front of her to grab the reins, encircling her sleeping body against his as they did so. Although the battle was over, Finan felt responsible to protect Fay in her vulnerable, sleeping state, and at that moment, he realized it was just as much a feeling of desire as it was of responsibility.


	4. Shrugs

The last thing Fay could remember before everything became fuzzy was the feeling of something surrounding her and the thrum of a heartbeat.   
\-   
Sensing her surroundings and the horse under her coming to a slow, Fay woke up. She slowly sat up to see that everyone was inside the gates of Winchester and to find that she was not alone on the horse. She was barely aware of Finan coming up onto the horse in her loopy state when it happened, but the memory was sharp in her mind now. She hesitantly turned her head to find Finan watching her with a smile playing at his lips and became very conscious of the situation very quickly. Fay was not one to take naps on strangers . . . or drool on them. She subtly wiped the small trail out of the corner of her mouth with haste. 

“Sleep well? Only God knows how much ya needed that.”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep like that” she said sheepishly while smoothing out her hair. 

“Don’t be,” he replied. “I think we both enjoyed the ride.” Fay didn’t put much thought into what he said but it still made her feel warm inside. 

Before any more words could be exchanged upon the matter, the other healers started leaving the line with the left-over supplies – that was Fay’s queue to leave. 

“Well, I’d better get going . . .” she looked into his dark brown eyes, “thank you, Finan.” She swung one of her legs over and gracefully slid down from the horse before he had the chance to help her down. Walking away from the line to join the other healers, she thought about how she usually felt happier to be back within the walls of Winchester after battles. The smell, the noise, and even the particular feeling of the mud under her boots brought her great comfort. This time, however, she felt like she was walking away from something rather than back to something.

-

It was the next morning and Finan was packing up his horse at the stable outside of the inn he and some of Uhtred’s men stayed the night. His head still hurt from all the ale he had consumed the night before at the tavern and the thought of the long ride to Cookham made it hurt even more. However, Finan was no stranger to riding on a hangover, and deep down, he knew that was not the reason he dreaded going to Cookham, or rather, leaving Winchester. His thoughts were interrupted by Uhtred’s voice. 

“Finan, you’re here! I’m shocked I didn’t have to go knocking on the doors of all the women in Winchester to find you.” Finan had dedicated last night to ale only, not one woman at the tavern had caught his attention. He shrugged.

“Guess I just wasn’t feelin’ it. Plus, Baby Monk needed some babysittin’ a few jugs in” Finan added with a laugh. 

“Osferth . . . the day he can keep up with the drink is a day that may never come” Uhtred said laughing. Poor Osferth often found himself being teased by Uhtred, Finan, and Sihtric. Popular topics were his lack of experience with women and sword fighting. Although the constant jokes sometimes felt like a stone in his boot, Osferth came to see them as their immature way of showing their love for him. 

“Anyways, we’ll be leaving for Cookham soon so make sure you’re ready.” Uhtred added. 

“Yes Lord. I was thinkin’ . . . could we use another healer? Ya know, Ingrede . . . she’s gettin’ quite old and has no one to take her place. I think we’d do well to just find a healer here and bring her back with us.” Finan gave a casual shrug at the end to cover up the intentions behind his proposal, however, Uhtred knew his closest friend too well. 

Pretending to act ignorant of the girl he knew was occupying Finan’s mind, he said, “that is a good idea Finan, now when did you come up this?” Uhtred was intrigued and wanted to see if he could get his friend, who seemed to have a small crush, to crack. He wanted to laugh, for Finan was not the type to think of the same girl the next day, but his face remained straight. To Finan, Uhtred was completely ignorant of Fay. 

“Just a drunken thought I had last night, but it makes sense.” Finan shrugged again, for effect, and avoided making eye contact with Uhtred. 

“Well, I need to have a quick word with Alfred before we leave so why don’t you go ask around and see what healer would come to Cookham with us.” Uhtred gave Finan a firm grip on the shoulder, his way of saying goodbye, and then walked off to go speak with the king.


End file.
